Erin & Jay: A Quiet Exhale
by penwielder62
Summary: Between work and the weight of their cases, Erin knows to savor moments of peace when they roll around. (Jay, on the other hand, just likes the chance to catch up on his sleep.)


Inspired by this bullet from "erin & jay: it's a domestic life"

 _late sunday afternoon naps on the couch. sunlight streaming through the windows, warming the air. jay passed out hard on his back and erin dozing on top of him, listening to his heartbeat beneath her ear._

And also incorporating mentions of CPD 3x11 "Knocked the Family Right Out".

(Credit to the creators of C _hicago P.D._ where it is due.)

* * *

There's an undeniable importance to a quiet weekend. Quiet meaning absolutely dead and requiring no exertion. Being a detective comes with perks and the top one is not being adhered to a swing shift like patrol. She's put in her uniform time and is glad that her name is now preceded by _detective_ because that means _weekends_. When Chicago is buried under too many feet of snow, chasing criminals down on foot is more life-threatening than the illegal guns that they tote. Erin isn't sure how many times she's turned an ankle on ice this week alone but it's a lot, whatever the number.

Martin Luther King Jr.'s day and the three-day weekend it comes hand-in-hand with couldn't have arrived at a better time. Their unit hasn't gotten a breather in weeks, getting tips and running suspects to ground no matter the day, hour, or temperature because Hank's on some new warpath he isn't sharing.

And after last week, Erin's thankful for the chance to decompress. She gets torn awake on a regular basis by nightmares of a cold blade to her jugular, rough hands she doesn't know on her body and it's taking its toll. Jay's driven more often than not this week just so she can sleep scant minutes between their destinations.

A quiet breath escapes her and Erin turns her cheek further into her partner's shirt, feeling the slow rise and fall of his chest beneath her. Jay is half buried under one of the couch cushions, but his free arm is draped across her waist, fingertips brushing her skin where her shirt rides up. It's the calmest she's felt—the _safest_ she's felt—in a long time, laying there and listening to the steady beat of his heart beneath her ear.

Sometimes the panic will grip her at the oddest moments—when Jay is laughing, hard, over a movie, watching him lope down the stairs to talk to Platt, when she wakes up alone in her apartment.

Panic and fear will take her breath because she almost _lost_ this. She almost lost her partner.

Erin squeezes her eyes shut as a cloud drifts away and sunlight streams into her living room again, warming the air and catching the gold in her hair. It's such an impossible thought, even more than Nadia's cold room and empty desk, to imagine Jay Halstead slipping through her fingers because she wasn't there to protect him. But it's real, too, and she knows it because she _lived_ it.

There's days when she knows that it was only the remnant pills in her blood, dulling her emotions, that kept her from going to her knees that day, when she faced Hank and then went to barter with empty hands for the life of her partner.

Erin breathes him in, curls her fingers in the worn cotton of his shirt—warmth, strength, an integrity she won't ever match up with—and wills herself to never forget.

Shifting, Jay grumbles in his sleep, his arm tightening around her middle, keeping her still, as he searches for a more comfortable position. Humor washes through her on the wake of the darkness. He always wants her close, when they're alone. Especially after last week with Tawney and her crew. Erin still doesn't think he slept at all that first night while she tossed and turned, and no one protested when they weren't far from each other's sides in the following days.

Once Jay resettles with a long sigh that ruffles her hair, Erin contemplates the fact that they've been laying here for _hours_ and her partner has been sleeping for most of them. At this rate, he won't sleep tonight and then there's also that notion known as food to consider.

Erin stares across her living room and decides not to worry about it. Jay needs sleep and she's where she wants to be. In another day they'll be back to work, facing the demons that roam the streets of their city and bringing whatever justice there is left to be had. For now, there is no phone to answer, no crime to solve, no crisis to take its next toll on them.

There is just Jay's hand warm against her back and lethargy weighting her limbs in this moment. And it's everything that Erin wants.

* * *

Thank you for perusing this scrawl! Comments, critiques, and concerns are always welcome.


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